The Misadventures of Slitherfuck and Metalface
by Jeely
Summary: Gajeel always figured that he'd never find a mate. Actually, he thought that whole courtship thing was a load of shit. When a Dragonslayer named Cobra begrudgingly joins the guild, he'll soon learn he can't stray far from a dragon's nature. [M/M and Timeline Alterations.]
1. Chapter One: Ouroboros Begins

**Rated M for: **violence, M/M, smut, mpreg, and sensitive material. **Please note that there are Timeline Alterations present in this fic.**

**Authors' Note: **This fanfic is co-authored by two people: Jeely and Lily. The events in this story began in roleplay, and over the course of a year evolved into something much more. Here we chronicle the misadventures of Slitherfuck and Metalface from first meeting through an epic journey that follows through the manga arcs.

* * *

_"... Dragons, while mostly solitary creatures, can congregate in what is called a 'flight'. Similar to a wolf pack or lion pride, there is always a clear alpha; usually male, though alpha females are not unheard of. The alpha's rule over the less dominant dragons in his flight is absolute, unless he is dethroned by a challenger..."_

~ Dragon Historia, pg 12

**Chapter One: Ouroboros Begins**

Dank, dark, and altogether miserable; not words one would want to describe an unpaid job, but Gajeel found himself stumbling into them far too often. This time they accompanied a mission given to him by the Master in secret. As the Master's grandson had recently been expelled from Fairy Tail it fell to Gajeel to track Laxus and ensure the boy had come to no harm nor been discovered by certain darks guilds out for his life, and Gajeel was none too pleased. He couldn't refuse a direct order, however, so the Iron Dragonslayer set off for misadventures untold.

It was easy enough for a seasoned Dragonslayer to track Laxus down. The scent of fresh air after a storm and cloying cologne drew Gajeel to the outskirts of an old graveyard overrun by moss and ivy, the myriad branches of late-blooming trees meshing together to form a flowering wall above the rotting remains of wooden fencing.

Another smell - that of blood, leather, and battle - mingled with that of the Thunder God, fighting to make itself known above Laxus' stench. Gajeel kept to the moss to muffle his steps and stayed well downwind of his quarry; but as he drew closer to the heavy scent that was undoubtedly Laxus, he noted the unfamiliar scent was closer than he had originally thought.

"I doubt he'll kick up too much of a hassle," Laxus said, leaning against one of the larger mossy graves. He folded his thick arms over his chest, then waved one of his hands for emphasis. "Old man loves a good redemption story. He won't turn away somebody who's injured, either. Not saying I'm playing his chords, but... just saying it works in your favor." There was a thoughtful pause, and the sound of a rustling cloak.

The sounds returned to the eerie quietness of the old graveyard. Any further movement to see lead to only one sight: Laxus, dressed in common clothes and a traveller's cloak, leaning against a crumbling grave while the air about him seemed to be stained with an overwhelming smugness.

The scent of blood had moved closer, however. Almost like it was right behind Gajeel...

"What are you doing here, low breed?" came a gravelly and sneering voice, just before a foot kicked the back of the iron dragon's head.

Bright spots erupted in Gajeel's eyes and he stumbled out of cover, but he quickly caught himself and swung around into a defensive stance as instinct took hold, metallic scales growing along his raised forearms.

Before him stood an unfamiliar face. Dark red hair, tan skin, stupid slanty eyes. Fucker was injured, his right arm in a bloody sling that he tried to hide under his own traveller's cloak. He was very thin and wasn't very big, he was just about Salamander's height - which seemed almost dwarfed in comparison to the Thunder God over yonder.

Most importantly the stranger wasn't pressing the attack further, and he certainly didn't smell like anyone from Raven Tail.

"I oughtta be asking you that same thing, ya dirty fuck," Gajeel retorted. "What, you trying to drag Laxus to the dark side?" But even as he asked, Gajeel knew it wasn't true. A dark guild wouldn't employ such a shabby recruiter, nor send someone already injured into a possible fight. Then again, most dark mages he knew were complete dicks.

The stranger's posture didn't change, a stance that, even with a bum arm, seemed to be eerily confident. He looked at Gajeel's scales, but seemed completely unphased by their presence. "Your Master sent you to spy on Laxus." He gave a tired smirk, then looked to Laxus. "So this is the idiot you were talking about," he commented, moving past Gajeel with silent steps.

"Figures," Laxus grunted, stepping away from his grave. "Might as well invite him to the party, then, eh?" His guest didn't seem all too pleased with the proposal, but Laxus was already hatching an idea. "I don't need some recycled waste of space tailing me everywhere I go, but maybe you can make yourself useful. I've got a job for you, trash, and I'll even pay you for it, unlike that old man of mine."

Gajeel bristled under the rash of insults, but here Laxus was willing to provide something he sorely needed; rent money. Pride could wait, Gajeel decided as he begrudgingly followed the redheaded weirdo into the mossy clearing.

"So you've knocked some sense into that thick skull of yours, have you?" Laxus smirked when he received no response. "Good. Now, listen closely. You're going back to Fairy Tail, you're gonna get the Master, and bring him here. Understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Gajeel responded gruffly. "Now how much you payin' for this shit?"

Laxus' smirk grew into a full-blown smug caricature as he stepped forward and pinned a letter to the front of Gajeel's tunic. "I'm paying you by not killing you," Laxus growled, warning sparks skittering across his arms. Where they strayed too close, the errant electricity arced onto Gajeel and burned his skin. "Got it?"

"Y-Yeah..." He should fight. He knew he should fight. But the excruciating memory of taking the full brunt of Laxus' fury so Natsu could survive was still fresh in his mind. He had no choice but to comply.

All the while the stranger had climbed up on one of the larger graves and made himself content in the soft moss and princess pine that covered it. His narrow eyes keenly watching the situation, he then turned his violet glance away and smirked at Laxus' form of payment. "Impressive, a First Gen that knows how to take orders," the redhead commented, leaning back on his one good arm. "I can hear how well you've trained him." 'Like a dog' the stranger's tone seemed to imply, though the words weren't said.

Gajeel had to look away to keep from glaring literal daggers. He had made a promise to the old man that he'd bring him news of the brat without causing a commotion. He would have to let this one go. That didn't mean he couldn't think about beating them both to a bloody pulp, which he did with gusto as he turned and skulked from the graveyard. Neither would have a bone left in their body by the time he made it back to the guild.

* * *

Fairy Tail was as lively as ever, noise and rowdy energy radiating out of every mage present in the large guild hall. So much so, that no one seemed to pay any attention to the black-haired man that came stalking in through the front doors; a man with a scowl that could have drilled through skulls.

It was with some misfortune that he almost tripped over the smiling shillelagh that suddenly stuck out from behind one of the great pillars. The short, elderly man who emerged soon after was at no loss for his own aged smile, looking up at Gajeel with a warm expectation. "I can only guess from that look on your face that you came across my grandson out there," Master Makarov commented. His voice held with it a promise that it would be fine if the iron dragon hadn't.

"I found your brat alright," Gajeel said with some distaste. "I got found out; he had some freak with him, and now he seems to think I'm the official Dreyar errand boy. He wanted you to have this." He withdrew a heavily crumpled envelope from a deep pocket it and shoved it in front of the Master. The envelope was plain, aside from a single etched lightning bolt on the front; an enchantment that would no doubt zap whoever opened it were they not the intended recipient.

Makarov took the envelope and withdrew a letter, reading in silence. His kindly smile morphed into a mask of surprise as his eyes scanned the page, then melted into a tired frown and a sigh of resignation. "I've a new task for you, Gajeel. You need to show me to where you found Laxus - he didn't write down a meeting place. This could be dangerous, so I want you to keep an eye on things while we're there."

Damn. He really _was_ the Dreyar errand boy.

In the background, Natsu's grating voice unfurled a story of how he shouted some guy half to death and then somebody got shot. If Gajeel wasn't careful, he thought he'd go the same way at this rate.


	2. Chapter Two: Previously Aggressive

_"A dragon flight rules over a territory, which is divided up into individual domains, domains shared by a mated pair or siblings, and familial nesting sites. Dragons new to a flight, or a trespasser in a flight's territory, may show aggressive behavior to stake their own claim..."_

~ Dragon Historia, pg 14

**Chapter Two: Previously Aggressive**

It was raining; only slightly, but enough to dampen a person's clothes were they to stay out too long. Gajeel was thoroughly soaked. His hair lay limp and heavy, while his clothes clung to every curve. Between the pounding of the rain, the thick wooden door, and the stampede of voices coming from the tavern he was forced to wait outside of, Gajeel couldn't hear a damned thing. And just inside, no doubt beside a warm fireplace with ale in hand, Laxus and his new pet were talking to Master Makarov.

_'Wait out here,'_ they had said, _'We'll only be five minutes!'_

"Well five minutes my ass!" Gajeel swore and turned to kick the doorframe he had been leaning on. "And who the hell is that twiggy fuck, anyway? Struts around like he's some big deal, all he'll get coming to him is an iron fist to the face!" Unable to think of further ways to curse out someone who wasn't there, Gajeel let his eyes fall to the dent he'd left in the doorframe. The wood was splintered and would likely make it slightly difficult for anyone to enter or exit the tavern.

But hey, the door deserved it! Appeased for now, the iron dragon settled against the undamaged side of the doorframe and crossed his arms across his chest, ready to continue the waiting game.

* * *

He was the only one at the booth who didn't flinch when the wall of the tavern thudded, some of the brick-a-brack falling off the old walls. It took a lot more than that to surprise him; he knew everything that was coming, anything that anyone planned to do.

Cobra held his tongue as Laxus and the Fairy Guildmaster looked back at the door and exchanged glances with one another. The poison dragon would have made a whole slew of comments about the iron dragon - how impatient he was, how uncouth he was, how low-bred he was - but he could _hear_ that it wouldn't score him points with the old man. That and, on the other hand, Makarov was Laxus' grandfather. Cobra could show the man respect.

"What an impatient moron," Laxus grumbled.

Master Makarov sighed. Cobra could _hear_ that Makarov agreed, but also thought that most of the Dragonslayers were impatient and loud, Laxus included.

"Mhm," Cobra sounded in agreement, as if it were all a fresh conversation. He idly played with the sling his right arm was slung in.

"But back to the matter we're here to discuss," Makarov went on, "About this young man here changing sides. Taking in a man like Gajeel, from Phantom Lord, which at one point was a legal guild, is one thing. Explain to me why Fairy Tail should be risked to take in someone hailing from one of the big Balaam dark guilds?"

Cobra would give the old guy some credit; he wasn't stupid. Makarov had made a point not to directly mention the name Oracion Seis around here.

"Because I asked you, Gramps," Laxus stated. "Cobra's an old friend of mine. He... just needs someplace else to go."

Damn right, Cobra wasn't about to go to prison. He'd heard what went on in there.

"And if it's that legal crap you're worried about, the Council and the Rune Knights can't touch him if he joins a legit guild. Like how they can't go after that shithead outside for what he did in Phantom."

The blond went to pat Cobra on the shoulder, only instead of a pat it felt more like a punch with his injury.

"Watch it," Cobra hissed through gritted fangs.

The old Saint eyed Laxus' interaction and Cobra's reaction. "Tell me, how did you get that injury? Did Natsu do it to you?"

Cobra froze. He could _hear_ that Makarov knew the story. Salamander had loudly bragged about the whole encounter, told the story about facing one of the Demon Generals - yet oddly enough, Cobra couldn't hear that the pink-haired nitwit had said anything about beating him.

"No." It was a simple answer.

"Then how did it happen?"

_He wants me to admit it._ Again Cobra held his tongue, opting to swallow instead. "I got shot."

"Shot by whom?"

Taking in a controlled breath, Cobra again held his temper at bay. His eyes shifted away from the elder Fairy. "M... My old Master." There was so much anger, so much betrayal and venom in that sentence that Makarov got the message to not press it further. Calling Brain 'master' seemed like such a fucking farce. A moment of silence passed before Cobra started again. "It's like Laxus said. I do not have anywhere to go back to; I can't keep running from the Council forever. I can give you my word that I'll keep my nose out of things that might bring the guild trouble."

The words seemed to weigh with Master Makarov, at the very least.

"Besides," Laxus threw in, "Fairy Tail kind of owes him a new place."

Cobra's ears lightly twitched, the thoughts of Makarov coming to him. _Wait, is the old guy really thinking like _that_?_ "And," Cobra carefully decided to indulge in that last thought, "You'll have the complete set of Dragonslayers."

Bingo. That, oddly enough, seemed to seal the deal. "Fine. Then if you're really going to be held to your word and join us, I've got three requirements for you, Cobra. One, you aren't to engage in any illegal activity and are to cut all ties with your former dark mage associates. Two, if I find out that you are harming or betraying _anyone_ in Fairy Tail - well, let's just say that there won't be a chance for you to be tried in the Council's court. And Three, try to stay out of fights in the guildhall. I don't need four rowdy dragons tearing the poor old place down."

"A toast, then, to new homes and not giving a shit!" Laxus said and downed the rest of his beer in one go, signaling the end of the deliberations. Makarov followed suit, though more sedated, leaving just Cobra and Cobra's suspiciously non-alcoholic drink.

"It's been a while since we've welcomed another into our family," Makarov said, looking to Cobra with a glint of humor in his eye. "I believe the last was Wendy, after- well, she didn't have much of a home to return to after the Nirvana incident. Isn't it funny how these things turn out?"

"Yeah, yeah, enough with the sentimental bullshit. You've still got an iron dipshit outside to babysit."

Laxus' point was punctuated by the sound of the door slamming inwards and falling off its hinges; a group of bargoers seeking to drop in for the night were unable to open the jammed door, and Gajeel was kind enough to knock it open for them.

Makarov could only gawk in horror, already tallying the damage expenses in his mind.

"We'll just pretend he's not with us..."

"Agreed," Laxus and Cobra both said.

* * *

The sun was just setting when the Guildmaster walked back through the large wooden doors of Fairy Tail, two figures begrudgingly trailing behind him. Laxus had stayed behind, as per the current arrangement he had with Makarov.

Most of the Fairies knew the irate Gajeel, but who was the young man with the crimson hair?

Cobra could _hear_ them; their questions, their concerns, their... opinions on how nice his butt was? He shook his head and pretended he hadn't heard that last part. He was uncomfortable with such things.

His ass aside, everyone wasn't as annoying as he was expecting. That was, until...

"HEY, GRAMPS!" the voice echoed, but Cobra wasn't sure if that was the building or simply how loud Natsu was to ears. "WHERE DID YOU GO WITH GAJEEL?" Natsu approached the three, still covered in medical tape and recovering from the damage Cobra had done to him.

Cobra couldn't help the prideful smirk that crept up on his flat features. At least he only had a shot shoulder.

"WAIT, WHAT'S COBRA DOING HERE?"

"That would be your new guildmate," Makarov responded with a mischievous smile.

Natsu wasn't convinced. The pink-haired dragonlsayer squinted and stared at his former enemy as if he could make things make sense faster by peering harder. This bout of thinking caught Cobra's ears and made him shudder, tossing an annoyed look at the scarf-wearing fire dragon.

"Stop it," he hissed lowly.

"STOP WHAT?"

"That."

"WHAT?"

Cobra motioned with his hand, up and down.

Confused, Natsu spun in a circle. Clearly there was something on his back, and that bastard Gray must have put it there!

* * *

Natsu's hour-long plan to catch his own ass was met with unparalleled success when Erza approached with the guild stamp in hand. She pushed the dizzy fire dragon away from the poison dragon, for now. After a nod of encouragement from the Master, Cobra turned away from the rest of the guild and reluctantly lifted the front of his shirt, oddly protective of letting anyone but the necessary see his exposed skin. He allowed just enough room for Erza to press the stamp against his stomach. A hum and soft light emitted from beneath the enchanted wooden block. When the light faded, Erza pulled the stamp away and stepped back. Cobra's skin bore the mark of Fairy Tail, crimson in color.

It took until Cobra rolled his shirt down for this act to sink in with the rest of the guild. All at once, pandemonium erupted.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S OUR GUILDMATE NOW, WE HAVEN'T HAD OUR REMATCH YET!" Natsu enthusiastically shouted, no longer dizzy.

"Are you a nice Dragonslayer like Wendy, or do we gotta put on our new-friend helmets again?"

"Nice ass!"

"What's with his arm?"

"COBRA, FIGHT ME!" Natsu shoved his way through the crowd again.

_**"SILENCE!"**_ Erza's commanding presence at once stymied the flood of questions and surge of curious fairies. Her glare emptied a small perimeter around the new fairy, but the rest were too intrigued to return to what they were doing. "Now that I have your attention," she continued, turning her glare to Cobra and Gajeel, "There are some ground rules you must follow."

'_Rules that don't exist and that I have just made up'. Right, Titania? _Cobra let out a sigh through his nose, pushing back the need to be snippy with the woman.

"Until such time as we deem you trustworthy, Gajeel is to accompany you on all jobs. You can redeem yourself, Cobra, and Gajeel can prove himself responsible."

From the force of Erza's tone it was clear the only judge involved would be herself.

Gajeel bristled under the insult, but with the Master behind her and onlookers surrounding them, a rare moment of wisdom urged him to caution. "So what, I get the babysitting detail? I don't need the help in the field, and I don't need a pet snake. I-"

"Will recover stolen goods for Lord Taillefer with Cobra or get _both_ of your memberships revoked." Erza stared down the two Dragonslayers, daring either to protest.

"Any questions?"

_Yes, I have one, _Cobra mentally snarked. He placed his free hand on his hip, under his cloak while listening to Erza go on about how she was going to keep an especially good eye on him. _Are you still angry that I got the better of you in that fight, or are there any _monthly _reasons why you're a bitch?_


	3. Chapter Three: First Job

_"__Dragons are separated into elemental breeds. Each elemental breed has their own behavioral patterns.__" _~ Dragon Historia, pg 3

**Chapter Three: First Job**

The woods were lovely, dark and deep. But one of the mages sneaking through the underbrush had promises to keep... like not poisoning this lout following him and tossing the body in a shallow grave.

After Titania had oh-so-graciously "given" the brand new - and entirely forced, Cobra would add - team this job, they'd waited a day before even setting out for it. Night had fallen in their procrastination.

He had been right in saying that the old man wasn't stupid. Cobra had paperwork to fill out, and a contract to sign; a contract stating what he'd promised to Makarov. Which, sadly, barred Cobra from offing Gajeel. With poison. Or a knife. Or a poisoned knife? No, no. A knife wouldn't work on Gajeel, Corba could _hear_ it.

For every quiet, soundless step that Cobra took, Gajeel took two trudging ones with those heavy boots of his. Served Cobra right for suggesting a shortcut through the forest. Eventually the trees and bushes thinned out, opening up at the base of a wide and high cliff. Up top rested the outer walls of a mansion that looked out upon the Southern Woodsea.

Cobra stopped, not even looking back at his new "partner" as he surveyed the new obstacle. "Please tell me that you're not already out of breath," he sighed, although his tone was not surprised in the least bit.

"I'm not out of breath, asshole," Gajeel grunted in response. Sure, he was breathing hard, but who wouldn't be after clambering through miles of brush and bush and bramble? This slithery fuck didn't count, of course - freaks of nature were excluded from all things abnormal. At least they'd made it to what looked to be their destination, a new obstacle which was much more the iron dragon's speed. He knocked his fist against the stone experimentally a couple times and, seemingly satisfied, twisted his fist into an iron climbing pick. "You ready for some real exercise, twiggy?" Gajeel asked, split by a crooked grin. All this talk about thieves, arrogant nobles, and gold for the taking got him all revved up for a good workout, and it looked like his patience was finally about to pay off. One quick climb to go and they'd be in action!

The redhead glanced between Gajeel and the cliff, moving the hand of his bad arm in a slightly sarcastic manner. "And here I was hoping there'd just be an elevator."

"... A what?" Gajeel stared at Cobra in bafflement for a moment, then turned his gaze to the cliffside as if it might transform at any moment. "You mean like those moving buffets?" Now there was a thought, get a good meal in before kicking ass. Though they were already here, taking time out to eat would throw their schedule off... Enticing as it was, Gajeel waved the thought off and jammed his other fist-pick into the cliffside. "Ya should've eaten before we came, y'know. We got work to do!"

Work that entailed breaking into a fortified mansion perched upon a cliff to reclaim an item stolen from their client. To Gajeel, the best means of breaking and entering entailed climbing the cliff which led to the mansion's back wall - no one would suspect on assault from beneath a hundred-foot drop, after all. He dug his iron pick-hands into the stone and with little effort hoisted himself off the ground. With his spike-toed boots firmly implanted in stone, Gajeel turned to check his partner's progress. "You comin', twig?"

Cobra once again looked up at the mansion. Cocking a thin brow, he said: "Yeah, see. I can't do... Whatever it is you're doing."

Gajeel rolled his eyes in response, breaking his stride to wait for the clearly handicapped shit-head he got saddled with. "Why don't you just tie a rope to my ass and hitch a ride up then, eh? Not like the cliff's gonna climb itself."

A wide and displeased frown spread across Cobra's face. _At least my "handicap" isn't a mental one._ "How about I _don't_ do that, and instead go around the cliff instead?"

"What, are you mental? That's exactly what they'd expect! Tch, and here I thought you were supposed to be some great tactician..." Undeterred, Gajeel took a couple more swings and began his ascent. "Fine, I'll meet you up there. First one there gets to pick how we get home."

Cobra turned on his heel and headed back into the dark woods, his frown melting into a self-assured smirk. "Enjoy the guard golems in the guy's yard."

* * *

The front gates of Lord Taillefer's mansion were large and made of thick wrought iron bars. Bars that had just enough space for someone to pass through if they were thin enough; which, luckily for Cobra, happened to be just the right width for him to pass through. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Having the iron idiot eat them would have been too easy a plan, plus Cobra liked making Gajeel miss out on a potential meal - what with the man's ability to eat as quietly as a trainwreck.

It was a simple enough plan, really. With Gajeel "distracting" the guard golems in the back yard, it left the rest of the perimeter open for Cobra to melt the locks on the front door and walk in.

The artifact was right where he had heard it was, on a pedestal in the study on the second floor. The room was dark, but he didn't need to see anything to complete this job. However something did catch his attention - a soft, magical hum coming from the object. Carefully, Cobra turned on one of the desk lamps and saw why.

The artifact they were supposed to retrieve was a small statuette of a diawolf, made from a white lacrimia-like material. Every detail was perfectly chiseled as if the statuette were grown rather than crafted, and the faint hum seemed to grow into a shrill whistle the closer Cobra got.

A bit too close, in fact.

The whistle built to a crescendo and ended in a deafening crash as a portion of the ceiling broke inwards under the weight of a flying Gajeel. He bounced off the floor and rolled to a stop just before the desk, forcing Cobra to side-step to avoid him. His grin stretched from ear to ear as he stood to dust himself off and dropped his new trophy, a watermelon-sized stone head shorn from one of the sentry golems.

"Oy, Slitherfuck, I found the thing!" Gajeel shouted, gesturing proudly at the statuette that sat between them.

Cobra's narrow violet eyes became almost slits as he half-glared at Gajeel. "Fan-fucking-tastic," he replied dryly. Before Cobra could spit any other comments, he froze briefly - a look of realization coming to his face. He swiped the diawolf statuette off the desk before bolting for the door. "You're on your own, loser!"

Several of the golems that Gajeel hadn't beheaded came crashing in through the large windows, their magic-fueled eyes burning a sinister red.

"Well, shit," Gajeel spat. He was out the door only moments before a giant stone fist saw fit to reduce the desk beside him to splinters.

Gajeel caught up to his partner after only a few minutes of slogging through underbrush - it really wasn't hard at all to track someone who smelled of bleach and leather, after all.

"Remind me to rip up all the weeds and shit around my house when we're done here, I'm getting sick of plants," he grumbled as he pulled up behind Cobra. "You even know where we're going?"

"Of course I do, we're going to the client's to return this damn statue," the redhead spat back at the straggler, holding up their stolen prize.

* * *

Little did either of the dragons know their hard work would be rewarded with the penalty of reduced pay, due to property damage. Cobra had some idea of the reduction, he could hear that news of a destroyed mansion had reached Lord Taillefer.

Still, even with that news, Cobra seemed oddly... calm; almost smug. Reduced pay should have sent his temper boiling over the edge, but instead he strolled along with his cut of the Jewel in hand.

Gajeel, on the other hand, was pissed beyond belief. He stomped along behind Cobra as if the ground itself denied him his prize, glaring at his boots the whole way. "And another thing, you give up way too easily!" Gajeel said suddenly, continuing a long-lost conversation. "We needed that cash, you know! And who the hell does that guy think he is with his poofy-ass pants and pink fedoras, huh?" The string of vitriol quickly descended into incoherent grumbling as Gajeel again lost track of his argument.

"Relax, moron," Cobra replied, pocketing his cash. "We'll be back in a month or so for a monster slaying job." His words were very assured of that fact.

Aside from the iron dragon's occasional outburst, the two walked on in almost-comfortable silence. They could return at least partially successful from their very first mission together and prove their worth to the guild.

At least Fairy Tail didn't destroy the _client's_ house this time.


End file.
